Age of Grace
by steelcrash
Summary: Changing times and unsettling revelations can cause a man out of time to question his place in the scheme of things. Eventual Coulson/Steve Rogers. Rating will go up in future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Age of Grace

Chapter 1—A man out of time

The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. belong to Marvel/Disney. Torchwood belongs to the BBC. I am merely borrowing them.

The man sitting alone on a park bench didn't draw any attention from passersby. The two men talking nearby did garner glances from the few joggers who happened by. One, dark-skinned with an eye patch, dressed in a dark suit, looked formidable and out of place standing at the side of the walking path in front of the blooming spring flowers. His companion, fair-skinned, dressed in a wool greatcoat meant for colder weather also stood out for his own reasons. They knew people were staring, none more than the individual they were talking about. And he was the reason Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and an old friend were meeting.

"Think he's going to come over here?"

"I doubt it, Jack," Fury said. "Not if he knows what's good for him. Besides, he's too polite to interrupt. I think."

"Not that I'd mind. He's even better looking in person."

"Jack—no. Just no. No flirting, innuendo, nothing of the sort," Fury said. "I don't need him scared or scarred for life."

"Him? He's Captain America."

"I know, but you're here to give him a pep talk, to offer your unique perspective on your mutual circumstances," Fury said.

"I know that's not the only reason why I'm here, is it?"

"No," Fury said. "How are things over there?"

"As well as you can expect. We're laying low, waiting. By the way how's my daughter and grandson?"

"They're doing fine," Fury said.

"Good. That's all I need to know."

"You'll be seeing them soon," Fury said.

"Don't remind me."

"Just talk to him," Fury said. "And would you mind sticking around when you're done? I need a few words with him myself, and though I think he's going to be glad to hear some of what I have to say, he's not going to like the fact I lied to him."

"You lying? Why am I not surprised?"

"Harkness, remember who's going to be doing who a big favor soon," Fury said.

"I thought I was doing you a favor."

"You are, and I won't forget," Fury said.

"I know."

"Have fun," Fury said, clapping the other man on the shoulder. He gave him a wry smile, walking over to the man on the bench.

"Steve Rogers I presume?" he asked, offering his hand in greeting.

"Is this another weak attempt at a psyche evaluation?" Steve asked.

"Hardly," the man answered. "My name is Captain Jack Harkness. I'm an old friend of Director Fury, and he asked me to come talk with you."

Steve frowned. "About?"

Harkness sat down on the bench beside him. "I know what it's like to be a man out of time," he said.

"I doubt that," Steve said.

Harkness grinned. "Wanna bet?"

"Not really," Steve said.

"Fine," Harness said. "So, how are you adapting? I know it must be a shock, all the changes you're experiencing."

"I'm doing just fine, and I finally figured out how to work the pod thingie Banner and Stark got me," Steve said. "But I do like the Ipad better. It's easier to use."

"That's good, but how are you doing otherwise? Want to talk about it?"

"I have no desire to discuss my personal issues with a stranger," Steve said, standing, starting to walk away.

"I do know what you're going through," Harkness said. "The world changed and moved on without you, all your friends and family and everything familiar—gone. Your circumstances are different, but I know what it's like. I didn't get to sleep through it like you did, but I lived it. Every single moment."

"What are you talking about?"

"You'll probably age, just slower, but not as slow as me. You sleep, don't you? I know some of the serum's side effects, but not all of them. . .

"Do you have the right security clearance to be discussing this?" Steve asked.

"I have that and more," Harkness said. "Are you even listening? I've seen and done things you cannot even begin to imagine. At least you haven't died. Been there, done that more times than I care to count. I've got a nice, long track record. I've been in my current line of work for more than a century now—the longest linear period of my life."

Steve frowned, but he was interested. "You're not making any sense."

"You're not listening," Harkness said. "Look, I have to go. If you need to talk, Fury knows how to contact me. And stick around. He wants to talk to you himself."

Harkness stood, walking over to a hot dog vendor while Fury took his place. He hoped there weren't too many fireworks.

Fury sat down by Rogers. Direct was probably the best approach.

"Nice weather, isn't it?" Fury asked.

"Yeah," Steve said. "What do you want?"

"There's something you need to know," Fury said. "I'm not proud of what I've done, but it was done in your best interests, and that of the Avengers. Agent Coulson is alive. He's at our primary medical facility here in the city."

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Phillip Coulson was bored out of his mind. He slept. A lot. The painkillers made him sleep, and he didn't want to take them because of it. The pain wasn't all that bad, nearly a month after getting stabbed back to front by an insane Asgardian god. Pain was a reminder he was alive, and the doctor did agree with him in theory, but not in practice. So all he did was sleep, and his waking hours were a mixture of reading, watching TV or surfing the Internet. There were the occasional visits from Director Fury, and they broke up the monotony. He knew he was lucky to be alive. He wanted to go back to work. Even reading field reports would be better than being forced to do nothing.

Director Fury said he should consider his forced time off as a vacation of sorts, as he never took time off. Ever. Coulson loved his job and genuinely liked most of the people he worked with. Even Tony Stark grew on him after a while. And the chance to meet his hero in the flesh, Captain America. Nothing could top that. Getting stabbed by Loki was worth it, as a price to pay for meeting Rogers, and being the catalyst bringing the Avengers together.

The Avengers. That was a happy thought. He wondered how they were getting along. Probably enjoying some much deserved time off. Not that anyone would tell him anything. His nurse, an employee of S.H.I.E.L.D., divulged nothing of what was going on with the organization. Maybe she didn't know, or she did, and had orders not to tell him. He was supposed to be recovering. How was he supposed to do that with any peace of mind when he didn't know what was going with work? He watched the news, and kept up with current events. It was all they would allow him.

Great. A knock at his door. 1:30 p.m., past lunchtime, he didn't need anything for pain, and Fury had visited that morning. His nurse opened the door.

"You have a visitor," she said, holding the door open.

Coulson couldn't hid his surprise or his smile when he saw who it was.

"Captain, it's good to see you," Coulson said.

"Call me Steve, since we're both off duty," he said, handing the agent a small package.

Coulson took it, unwrapping it to find a deck of vintage Captain America cards, signed. _"To one of the bravest men I've ever met, thank you for your courage and sacrifice, Captain America."_

"Thanks," he said.

"I though you'd like them," Steve said. "How are you?"

"Better," Coulson replied. "I want out of here, I feel fine, but they won't let me out."

"You nearly died, and I think the doctor knows more about your condition than you," Steve said. "By the way, I'm glad to see you are alive. Nice of Fury to let us know."

"When did he tell you?" Coulson asked.

"A couple of hours ago," Steve said. "I don't know if the others know yet. If Fury hasn't told them, I will."

"Think you could get me out here?" Coulson asked, hopeful.

"I don't think I have that much influence," he said. "But it couldn't hurt to try."

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Two days later

Tony Stark wouldn't take no for an answer. For once, Coulson was grateful for the other man's stubbornness. It helped get him out of the hospital, but not without strings attached. Like he'd help get him out on the condition he'd stay in one of the apartments in his recently Loki-renovated tower, and Bruce Banner would be his personal physician for the foreseeable future. That mollified his S.H.I.E.L.D. appointed doctor, and Fury also.

Now, the agent was the center of a winding down gathering with the assembled Avengers, Director Fury, Agent Hill and Stark's assistant and significant other, Pepper Potts. The relief and surprise they all had on seeing him in the flesh since his apparent death was an eye-opener for the agent. He kept his professional and personal lives separate, but here, in this one moment, they intersected. And the irony was Stark would be babysitting him for several weeks. The billionaire wasn't letting him live it down, either.

"I can have Jarvis download every episode of "Supernanny" to the entertainment system and put them on continuous loop," Stark said, grinning.

"I don't need them on continuous loop," Coulson said.

Thor and Banner shared a glance. "You watch "Supernanny?"

"Got a problem with that?" Coulson asked.

"No."

"What is 'Supernanny?'" Steve asked.

"I'm sure your biggest fanboy will fill you in, won't you?" Stark said.

Coulson gave stark his best menacing look, but Stark ignored it.

"Relax, sparky," Stark said. "I'm just glad you're still around to bother."

"Speaking of bother, everybody's had enough excitement for one day," Banner said. "C'mon, Coulson, I'll help you to your place. Besides, I need to change that dressing."

"Hey, Coulson—chicks are gonna dig your scar when it heals," Stark said. "Look at the chick mine landed me."

Pepper smacked him, but smiled despite herself. "I'll come down tomorrow and see you," she said, hugging the agent. "Call if you need anything."

"I will," he said.

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	2. Chapter 2

Age of Grace

Chapter 2—The world has changed

The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. belong to Marvel/Disney. Torchwood belongs to the BBC. I am merely borrowing them.

Alone. Finally. The apartment was nice. Bigger than his own place, and had a great view. Coulson wondered what the lease was going to cost some lucky future renter. Stark's designer had good taste, expensive from the looks of things. He didn't care. Coulson was savoring the moment—lounging on a couch in an apartment he would probably never be able to afford in his lifetime. He was alive, and had just spent several hours with the people he cared most about. He wasn't going back to work until he received clearance, and he wouldn't get that unless he was a compliant patient. Pissing off Bruce Banner was not a good idea, so he was going to follow the doctor's orders to the letter.

He was also going to have to put up with Stark, but he could live with that. If he became too intolerable, he could just say something to Pepper Potts, and problem solved. Coulson wondered if Stark knew how luck he was to be with such an incredible woman. Probably, but he didn't see himself having any deep, meaningful conversations with the billionaire, so he wasn't going to ask. Relationships. Not so happy a thought. His own most recent long-term relationship ended when she moved back to Portland. He nearly died, and hadn't heard anything from her, despite Pott's attempts to reach her on his behalf. (Stark had a hand in that. Coulson appreciated it, but maybe it was time to move on.)

Coulson yawned, glancing at his watch. 1:30 a.m. Late. He was tired, his wound was starting to hurt, but he couldn't bring himself to move off the couch. He was comfortable, and finally starting to feel like himself for the first time since waking up in the hospital. A little bit of normal. Then again, his baseline wasn't quite like everyone else's. Acting as the eyes of the director of a top-secret organization and shepherding the Avengers was his normal.

And who the hell would be knocking on his door so late? Coulson thought about ignoring it, but he got up, answering it anyway. If it was a drunken Stark, he was calling Potts. He unlocked the door, opened it, surprised to see Steve Rogers standing out in the hall.

"Come in," Coulson stammered, watching as the other man came in, throwing himself down in a chair.

"I hate this thing," Steve said, pocketing his cell phone. "I tried calling, but there are so many damn buttons. . .Stark gave it to me, said it had all the numbers I need programmed into it, but how the hell do you use it? And what's a facebook? It's all Stark would talk about before I left."

Coulson sat back down on the couch. "If you want to call someone, just hold the phone up, and tell it to call who you want to talk with," he said.

Steve pulled the phone back out of his pocked. "Call Agent Coulson."

Coulson's phone rang.

"Thanks," Steve said. "Stark said it has apps on it, too. What do I need those for?"

"I'll have to show you 'Angry Birds,'" Coulson said.

"I know that's a game," Steve said. "But what Facebook, and why should I care? And this stupid phone keeps beeping at me. Why?"

"Give it here," Coulson said, scrolling through the apps, hitting the button for Facebook. Just as he thought—Stark. "It's beeping at you every time Stark updates his Facebook status. I can turn off his notifications if you like. He'll drive you crazy."

"He already is," Steve said. "He was standing on the bar singing a song from a movie about Hawaii being blue when I left."

"Was he intoxicated?" Coulson asked.

"Three sheets to the wind," Steve answered. "I haven't seen anyone drink that much in a long time."

"He's been doing better," Coulson said.

"Well, if he's going to be on _my_ team, he's going to have to clean up his act," Steve said.

"The drinking is a problem," Coulson said.

"I guess we all have our demons," Steve said. "Sorry to keep you up. I just wanted to stop by and. . .well, I don't know. Good night."

He stood, and Coulson watched as the other man let himself out.

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Breakfast with Stark, Banner and Potts, listening to the two men bicker about some new project while Potts kept up a commentary on the project, and asked him how he was doing. Fine. That was a nice, safe answer. How was he really feeling? He'd think about it later. Then there was a tour of the lab where Banner was working, followed by the admonishment to take it easy. So here he was, back in his apartment, staring out the window at the city, head snapping around at the sound of someone letting himself in.

"Coulson, stand down. It's just me."

Fury. With a stack of files.

"I have something for you to do," Fury said, setting the files down on the coffee table as Coulson came over, picking up the top folder and flipping through the dossier.

"I want you to look at these, and tell me what you think," Fury said.

"Who are these people, and what are you planning?" Coulson asked.

"The man profiled in the file in your hand is someone I've worked with before, and I trust him," Fury said. "His team, however, is an unknown quantity. I want your opinion on them."

"Why should S.H.I.E.L.D. be concerned with what looks like a group of civilians?" Coulson said.

"These civilians have been working for an organization in England that has experience stretching back more than a century dealing with the type of threat we eradicated last month," Fury said.

Coulson sat down. "Does our government know about this?"

"Not yet," Fury said. "But they will, and the fallout. . .the less said, the better."

"Are you thinking about bringing these people into the fold?"

"Possibly," Fury said. "Get back with me a soon as you can."

"Will do, sir."


	3. Chapter 3

Age of Grace

Chapter 3- His secrets have secrets

Disclaimer: The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. belong to Marvel/Disney. Torchwood belongs to the BBC. I am merely borrowing them.

The first file was the thickest, on a man named Capt. Jack Harkness. A little negotiation with Stark and intercession from Ms. Potts and he had a laptop, and with Jarvis' help, was looking up more information on this Harkness character. Jarvis wasn't the SHIELD mainframe, but he was a huge help. A little digging revealed an American fighter pilot, also named Jack Harkness, same rank, died during a dogfight over England in 1941. The pictures of the two Jacks did not match. Something to ask Fury about, when he got the chance, but the man in the dossier had formidable skills and experience that could prove valuable to SHIELD.

The rest—a former policewoman named Gwen Cooper and her husband, Rhys Williams. Possibly useful, but not likely. Also in that same category, an Ianto Jones, but with the right training, he could be a valuable asset. The other two, a doctor, Owen Harper, and a computer expert named Toshiko Sato, had potential. He'd write up a report and forward it to Director Fury.

And why was Stark suddenly there, letting himself in? Coulson set aside the laptop, picking up the stack of files, and shoving them inside the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Stark was giving him a strange look, and then he started talking, and wouldn't shut up.

"Are you hiding Rogers in there? It's OK if you are, I mean, I think you two would make a great couple," Stark said.

"Stark. . ." Coulson warned, jaw clenching.

"It might take you a while to get him to come around, but if that's something you want to pursue, you have my support, 100 percent," Stark said. "Or you're just trying to hide something. I know Fury came up to see you today. You're not going to do something stupid, are you? We just got you back. I'm sure Rogers would have a conniption if he found out. . ."

"Mr. Stark. That. Is. Enough."

"Yeah, well, be seeing you," Stark said. "Pepper wants you to come up for dinner."  
"I'll be there," Coulson said.

Except he wasn't. Instead, hours later, he was on a SHIELD quinjet on his way back to the helicarrier, returning from Cardiff, Wales with Natasha Romanoff. Director Fury didn't have to ask twice. The op was simple enough—go to England and extract the people in the files he'd been given. Except it hadn't been so simple. Two of the group was in body bags—Harkness and the doctor, Owen Harper. Jones was sitting with his arm around Sato, and the medic was splitting his time between Gwen Cooper, who was pregnant (Fury hadn't mentioned that little detail) and himself. Cooper's husband obviously couldn't decide if he was going to rip someone apart or thank them for getting them all out.

The painkillers and whatever else they gave him before leaving were starting to wear off. The medic had the bleeding mostly stopped, but his wounds were not the priority. Cooper was going into premature labor, and that was the last thing Coulson remembered as he sank into darkness.

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Bruce Banner was having a lousy day. He was back on the SHIELD helicarrier. Unpleasant enough, but he'd been called upon to use his medical skills for something other than patching up the team. An emergency C-section on a pregnant civilian, a woman who also had a gunshot wound. Then there was the fight to save the infant, a girl, who lived, thank God. Coulson was injured again, and he'd left that to the SHIELD doctors, having had his hands full with the woman and baby. Now Fury wanted him to go down to the morgue and take a quick look at the bodies Coulson brought back with him. Somebody needed to sign the paperwork to dispose of the bodies, and Banner was the lucky sap.

He snapped on a pair of exam gloves, unzipping the body bag containing Harper. The cause of death was evident—a shot to the back of the head. Banner zipped the back shut, moving on to the second. Unzipping it, he noticed that the body in the bag did not fit the description he was given. Something about this one being in pieces, but he was staring at a complete body. A body whose eyes opened, one deep inhalation, and the corpse sat up.

Banner fainted.

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Coulson startled awake. Pain in his chest, his right shoulder and left thigh were on fire and where the hell was he? The room was dimly lit, and he concentrated on slowing his breathing, and trying to make the pain go away. He was not going to panic. From the sound of things, he was on the SHIELD helicarrier, one of the rooms in the infirmary.

He took a deep breath, relaxing as his eyes adjusted to the low light. He was sitting, propped up in bed with pillows, an IV in his good arm. Bandages wrapped around his torso and right shoulder, the one where he was shot. His left leg was also propped up on pillows from his other gunshot wound.

Coulson fumbled around for his call light, he was thirsty, and hurting and didn't care this time if he slept until hell froze over. And of course, the instant his hand hit the damn call light, the device fell to the floor. He heard the rustle of clothing, and movement a few feet away, finally realizing there was someone in the room with him. The lights came on, and Coulson was surprised to see the other person was Steve Rogers.

"I'll get your nurse," Steve said, leaving, and coming back moments later with a nurse. She took Coulson's vitals, gave him something for his pain, and left him alone with Rogers again.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Steve asked. "I know you love your job, but there is a fine line between courage and stupidity. It's been a month since we thought you died. A month. A little over 30 days since you were stabbed. And you go off on an op and get yourself shot. . ."

"Fury asked nicely, and I accepted," Coulson said. "He had a job that needed to be done, and he asked me to do it."

"Fury needs his ass kicked," Steve said.

"It was supposed to be a simple extraction," Coulson said.

"I know. Natasha told me all about it," Steve said. "Banner had to do an emergency C-section on the woman. I think she's doing all right. The baby's fine. She's a little small, but feisty. They named her Anwen. It means 'fair' in Welsh. Look, I better let you get some rest. You lost a lot of blood, and I need to go check on Banner. Something happened, and he's flipping out. But before I go, there's something I want you to have."

He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a cross on a chain, setting it in Coulson's hand. The agent looked at the object—a silver cross, Celtic in design. It looked old.

"It belonged to my mother," Steve said. "My grandmother gave it to her before she and my father emigrated here to the States. I don't much use for it anymore and I want you to have it. Considering your luck lately, you need it more than me."

Coulson handed it back. "I can't take it."

Steve pushed it back into the agent's hand, closing his own around it. "I consider you among my friends, and I don't want to lose the few I have," he said. "Get some rest. We'll talk later."

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Fury was in Banner's lab, watching the man pace. Banner was still in his surgical scrubs, looking more haggard than usual.

"What the hell is going on? You better tell me what is going on," Banner demanded. "That man was dead. Natasha told me he was in pieces. Coulson's report backed it up. The guy in the body bag was dead. Cold. No heartbeat, yet _he sat up on my table_. Alive. How the hell does that happen?"

"Jack Harkness can't die. At least no one has found a way to keep him from coming back," Fury said.

Banner stopped pacing. "What? You mean you knew about this and you didn't think it was a good idea to warn somebody?"

"It's Harkness' little secret," Fury said.

"Not so secret anymore," Banner said. "Is that why you sent Natasha and Coulson to get him?"

"Not just him—Harkness' team," Fury said. "The op wasn't supposed to happen the way it did, but my hand was forced. By the way, how are the others?

"They're all right. The woman—Cooper, she's lucky to be alive, and the baby's fine," Banner said. "Coulson is going to be out of commission longer, but of course, you knew that."

"Banner, you did a good job tonight. Go get some rest," Fury said, clasping the other man on the shoulder.

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Capt. Jack Harkness was in Nick Fury's office, sitting at Fury's desk, feet propped up like he owned the place. And he wasn't disappointed by the look on Fury's face when he walked in.

"Get your ass out of my chair," Fury said. "Glad to see somebody found you some clothes."

Harkness snorted. He was wearing a t-shirt and fatigues someone found in his sized. "It's a nice chair."

"I know," Fury said, taking Harkness' place. "How long before the news hits?"

"A few hours," Harkness said. "We planned for this, only not so soon. "How is my team?"

"Harper is dead," Fury said. Harkness sank down into a chair.

"The others?"

"Cooper went into premature labor because she was shot, but she and the baby are fine," Fury said. "Sato, Jones and Cooper's husband are all with her."

"Did your agents make it?" Harkness asked.

"Not without incident," Fury said.

"What happens to us now?"

"That's up to you," Fury said. "The deal was I'd get you out of you agreed to cooperate. That hasn't changed, has it?"

"No," Harkness said.

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	4. Chapter 4

Age of Grace

Chapter 4- What are you prepared to do?

Disclaimer: The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. belong to Marvel/Disney. Torchwood belongs to the BBC. I am merely borrowing them.

Barton was sitting with Coulson, watching the news when the report hit. Britain had been hiding their knowledge of alien outsiders for years, and like Fury anticipated, the fallout was spectacular. There was talk of the United States severing diplomatic ties with Britain, but it was a ploy. It was really to gain leverage and access to the information the other country had been hiding before anyone else did.

"Well, this shitstorm is going to take forever to sort out," Barton said. "More fun for us, I guess. I have to go. Natasha will be here in a while. Rogers might come later, but he's helping with the others. . ."

"How are they?" Coulson asked.

"About as well as expected," Barton said. "Angry, grieving, relieved. Finally accepting they're safe."

Coulson new that was a relative term in their line of work, but he said nothing.

"There's also some weirdness going on, I haven't been briefed yet, but Banner was more than upset last night," Barton said. "He kept it together, though. See you later."

Barton clapped him on the shoulder, leaving.

Weirdness? How much weirder could it get, Coulson considered. Gods from another realm, aliens, myth, magic and monsters so far. His own death and resurrection. A technicality, but still, he probably shouldn't even be alive, but he was. He sighed, trying to get more comfortable. The infirmary was going to be home for a while, considering the extent of his injuries.

Fury entered his room, taking Barton's seat. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Coulson said.

"How much did Rogers and Barton tell you?" Fury asked.

"Cooper and her infant are alive, and something happened with Banner," Coulson said.

"What I'm about to tell you, only Banner and Natasha know so far," Fury said. "The others will be informed on a need to know basis. Harkness is alive. Banner witnessed him waking up while he was getting ready to fill out the paperwork to dispose of Harkness' and Harpers' bodies."

"Sir, Harkness was dead. He was shot twice—head and chest, then shredded with a couple of grenades and other shrapnel," Coulson said.

"And I'm telling you he's alive," Fury said. "I want you to talk with him later, but the reason why can wait. There are a couple of things you and I need to get straight. There were some. . .enhancements done during the initial surgical procedures to save your life. The injections you received before leaving for England were the second phase of those enhancements."

"Sir?" Coulson asked.

One word, but the way Coulson asked meant it was a loaded question.

"Genetic enhancements to accelerate your body's ability to heal itself," Fury said. "It's taken some time to integrate with your own genetic code, but you should be starting to experience the effects in the next few days. Accelerated healing, possibly some enhancements to your reaction time, but nothing else."

"No offense, sir, but next time, I refuse to be a lab rat," Coulson said.

"Noted," Fury said. "At least you made it through."

"Nearly dying or genetic enhancements?"

"Both," Fury said. "Get some rest. You're going to need it."

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Four days later

Steve Rogers was restless, out of his element. Give him an enemy to fight, strategy to plan, and he was fine. However, he reminded himself he volunteered for his current assignment, helping baby-sit the people from Coulson and Natasha's last op. They were displaced, not out of time, but their homes, lives and everything familiar. He could sympathize, and thought he could help. Also, because Coulson couldn't be there, he wanted to be.

Rogers oversaw their removal from the SHIELD helicarrier to temporary quarters at Tony Stark's New York tower. Now he was sitting by himself, watching Cooper and her husband with their friends Toshiko Sato, Into Jones and Pepper Potts, who was talking to them, helping them settle in. Pepper was a life-saver, and Rogers knew he owed her.

He gave her a wry smile as she approached, sitting down on the arm of his chair. "How are you holding up?" she asked.

"Great," Rogers said. "Nothing awkward about this at all. Thanks for helping though. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."

"Sit and brood," Pepper said. "I'm glad you're here instead of Tony. He'd be asking all kinds of questions."

"He'd make it interesting, that's for sure," Rogers said. "I still can't believe this whole damn situation though. I hope Fury knows what he's doing."

"I'm sure Tony has asked that question and more," Pepper said.

She was right. Stark did drive him up the wall, but he had his good points. Making Fury accountable was one of them.

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Coulson ignored the looks, some concerned, some surprised, others unreadable. Almost a week after being shot, he was up and around like nothing had happened. He had a scar on his shoulder and leg, but the wounds had healed completely. The wound on his chest was also healed, scarred over. He felt better than he had in ages, but at what cost, and not his own personal choice. All things to deal with later because he had another job to do for Director Fury—an interview with Capt. Jack Harkness. He entered the cell where Harkness was being held, but considering the man's skill set, he probably could've walked out any time he pleased. That he hadn't was a mark in his favor.

"Captain Harkness, I'm Agent Phillip Coulson. I'm here to evaluate your potential as a threat or asset."

Harkness rolled off his bunk into a sitting position. "The last time I saw you, you were taking a bullet for Gwen Cooper," he said.

"And you were in pieces," Coulson said.

"How much did Fury tell you?" Harkness asked.

"Enough," Coulson said. "I know you can't die. Mind explaining that?"

"Due to circumstances beyond my control, I can't die. I don't appear to age, but that's because I age very, very slowly," Harkness said. "I've been on a few ops with Director Fury, and didn't have anyone else to turn to, so I'm here now."

"You offered yourself and the British government's intel on alien threats for the lives of six people," Coulson said. "But you and I know it's really not that simple."

"It is and it isn't," Harkness said. "I tried doing the right thing, but no on in Britain would listen. The incursions have been getting worse over time, and with the attack on New York, I knew something had finally happened on a scale where maybe people would start to pay attention, but I was wrong."

"Well I'm here, and I'm listening," Coulson said.

"It's not just extraterrestrial threats we have to deal with," Harkness said. "You've seen it yourself—Loki, correct?"

Coulson nodded.

"I know SHIELD's job is to find and deal with external threats, but they've been missing a big one lurking right in plain view," Harkness said. "Things are getting ready to blow, and everything that's happening now is just a small taste of things to come."


	5. Chapter 5

Age of Grace

Chapter 5— This doesn't have to get messy.

Disclaimer: The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. belong to Marvel/Disney. Torchwood belongs to the BBC. I am merely borrowing them.

The interview with Harkness lasted a bit longer, and Coulson knew Fury was waiting to hear his opinion. He was sitting across from the director of SHIELD, thinking. He was alive, although through experimentation he did not authorize himself. Fury made that decision. Coulson couldn't decide if he wanted to thank or curse his boss for it, but he knew Fury had his reasons. Trust was probably the biggest one—Fury trusted Coulson like he trusted no one else, and the man did not offer his complete trust to many people.

"Well?" Fury asked.

"Sir, I believe Harkness and his knowledge will be a valuable asset, but he bears watching," Coulson said. "Some of the information he told me seems a bit far-fetched, but considering recent events, I'm willing to take it at face value."

"Do you feel up to the job of watching Harkness?" Fury asked.

"Baby-sitting the man?" Coulson asked.

"He doesn't need a constant watch," Fury said. "I trust him that much, but if I put him to work, I want him reporting to you, not Hill. You're going to have enough to do, since I'm turning the Avengers over to you."

"Sir?"

"Coulson, you recruited them, you know their histories like the back of your hand," Fury said. "Recruiting them was the first step—I'm making you their handler," Fury said. "You're the right man for this."

"Thank you sir," Coulson said. I think. A huge responsibility, but was he up to it?

"That's not all, I want Toshiko Sato and Ianto Jones brought in," Fury said. "Jones could be a valuable asset in your work, as well as Sato. Consider them your new support staff. Any questions? Concerns?"

"Harkness said there was something he wanted me to pass along—he said he knows the location of Agent 10," Coulson said.

Fury stood. "That will be all, Coulson."

Coulson left the director's office, watching Fury head below decks. And Fury fumed as he headed toward Harkness' holding cell. Letting himself in, hands on hips, he glared at the other man.

"Are you trying to piss me off?" Fury said. "If you know where he is, why the hell didn't you say so?"

"I know where he is, but you're not going to like what I have to say," Harkness said. "He's not the same man you used to know. He's not the same man any of us used to know. Nick, not much in this world frightens me anymore, but this. . .this is truly scary."

"What are you talking about?"

"He's been experimented on," Harkness said. "He's lost his memories, his humanity, everything that made him who he was."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Fury said.

"I didn't think you had the resources to do anything about it, but now I know you do," Harkness said.

"How bad is it?"

"How much are you willing to throw at him?"

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The cabin's location was remote. Remote was good, Coulson reflected. Less opportunity for collateral damage. However, it was cold, freezing actually, as he waited for his men to get into position. They were carrying heavy artillery—not Phase 2 weapons, but specialized weapons to deal with the current threat. Not really a threat when he was tasked with bringing in a man that was potentially as dangerous as the Hulk. Hence Banner's presence on this op. The man was shivering beside him, muttering under his breath.

"Dr. Banner, are you all right?" Coulson asked.

"Peachy," Banner muttered. "Can we get this over with?"

"We're in position, sir," came over Coulson's earpiece.

"Banner, get ready," Coulson said.

"We're seriously going to do this?" Banner asked.

Coulson walked toward the cabin, Banner struggling to keep up. Knocking on the door, it was yanked open, the man standing in the doorway looking feral.

"What do you want?" he snarled.

"I'm Agent Phillip Coulson with SHIELD, and I've been asked by Director Fury to bring you in," Coulson said.

"I'm going to give you to the count of three to get off my doorstep, and if you're not gone. . .one. . .two. . .SNIKT.

Coulson drew his weapon, firing two of the special rounds into the man's chest. He howled with rage, lunging his way. Coulson jumped aside, hitting the ground, unable to protect Banner. But Banner was already changing. Their target turned his claws on Banner, stabbing repeatedly, but it only served to enrage the Hulk further. He grabbed the man, who was on his back, throwing him throw the cabin wall. He stood, charging again, and the Hulk once again repelled his attack. Coulson knew the two could probably go on all day, but he wanted to end it quickly. He radioed his sniper up on a nearby ridge, who waited until the Hulk was clear once again, firing two large caliber pyrophoric rounds into the clawed man's head. Two more fired into his chest, and he dropped.

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Steve Rogers was bored. He was flying back to the SHIELD carrier, delivering one Ianto Jones and Toshiko Sato, and the ride was taking forever. Sleep eluded him, and his fellow passengers weren't the most talkative. Sato spent most of the trip on her laptop, and Jones slept. But now it was over, and they were landing. Jones woke as they slowed for their landing approach, and Sato gave him a slight smile. Rogers smiled back, but he wasn't feeling it. Then they were on the tarmac, and he picked up Sato's bags for her. He was almost down the ramp, behind Jones, when he saw the enthusiastic greeting he was giving another man. Rogers turned crimson. Sato noticed.

"Not used to seeing this kind of thing?" she asked.

"Not really," Rogers said. "It's OK though. I know things have changed."

"They let us read some of your file since we're going to be working together," she said. "I know you have a lot to deal with. . ."

"Ma'am, you're not kidding," Roger said. "C'mon. I'll help you get settled, then Director Fury wants to see you and Jones."

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Rogers showed Sato to her quarters (Jones was going to be sharing quarters with the man he greeted up on landing, who happened to be Harkness. He just didn't notice.). He also took her to see Fury, and made his own way to the infirmary to visit Coulson, but he wasn't there. Rogers kept his composure with the doctor, saving his ire for Fury. He waited impatiently for the director to finish with Sato, then let himself into the other man's office when she left.

"Where is Coulson?" Rogers asked.

"Gone," Fury said.

"What the hell do you mean—gone?" Rogers said.

"Gone as in not on the boat," Fury said, standing.

"What the hell have you done with him this time?" Rogers asked. "Is he on another op?"

"Maybe," Fury said. "But that's. . ."

One moment he was standing, the next he was on his back on the floor, seeing stars.

"Quit playing games, Fury," Rogers said. "Coulson is one of us."

Fury heaved himself up off the floor. "Part of the Avengers? I know that," he said, leaning against his desk, trying to shake off the punch. "He and Banner will be back in a few hours."

"What? How is he even up and around?"

"Drastic measures had to be used to assure Coulson's survival," Fury said.

"You experimented on him?"

"It saved his life," Fury said. "He'll experience accelerated healing and reflexes. An advantage considering his new assignment. He can fill you in himself when he gets a chance."

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0130. Coulson sighed as he checked his watch as a medical team offloaded their passenger. He was alive, but how, after being pumped so full of drugs, Coulson couldn't guess. Banner wouldn't leave the clawed man alone, taking charge, pushing away the other doctor and ordering scans, bloodwork and more. At least the man had something to do. Coulson had a debriefing with Fury, then sleep. Except he was being summoned to the med bay by Fury and couldn't say no.

He ran, catching up with the team, following them, surprised to see Rogers with Fury.

"Glad to see you're back on your feet," Rogers said with a tired smile.

"Captain Rogers," Coulson said.

"Steve," Coulson said.

"Sir, what is going on?" Coulson asked Fury.

"That man was a SHIELD agent once upon a time," Fury said. "Rogers, you even know him. Take a good look."

Blood covered part of his face, but Rogers frowned. It was a face from his past.

"That's Lucky Jim Howlett," Rogers said. "But how is that possible. . ."

"I can explain later," Fury said. "Banner's got a lot of work to do, and gentlemen, we should not get in the good doctor's way."


	6. Chapter 6

Age of Grace

Chapter 6— I think we need to time-out

Disclaimer: The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. belong to Marvel/Disney. Torchwood belongs to the BBC. I am merely borrowing them.

Banner was having a hard time keeping his mouth shut. His anger wasn't enough for the other guy to make an appearance, but what he was looking at violated everything a doctor was supposed to be. Even he wasn't happy with himself for condoning the methods they were using to keep the man they brought in unconscious. He'd seen the video of the fight with the clawed man, and he knew it was for the safety of everyone on the helicarrier.

They were pumping the clawed man full of sedatives and a chemical cocktail that would kill another human. Except the man on the table in the med bay wasn't a normal human. The man's scans and blood work were not normal, either. The bullet wounds were already healed. . .and his bones, well, Banner really wanted an explanation for that.

From the looks of things so did others. Rogers stood waiting with Fury, Coulson and Harkness in the doctor's lab. Banner was staring at a scan on one of the screens, a full body scan of the man's skeleton.

"His modifications are extensive," Banner said. "He has adamantium bonded to his bones, and those claws—those have to be implants. Are they?"

Fury shrugged. "He was always indestructible, but I never saw those before," he said.

"Who the hell would do that to another human being?" Rogers asked.

"He was part of an experimental program started to replicate the serum used on you," Harkness said. "But obviously, they branched out. I don't think it was done with his permission."

"I would hope not," Rogers said. "So this wasn't anything to do with the American government?"

"The American, Canadian and British governments were working together on the program that produced the results you see in front of you," Harkness said. "You, Capt. Rogers, were Weapon I, Howlett was Weapon X."

"How can you be so cavalier about this?" Rogers asked, fist clenching at his side, eyes blazing with anger.

"I've had a long time to come to terms with a lot of unpleasant things," Harkness said. "You get used to it."

Fury shot Rogers a look, hoping he'd take the hint. He didn't need a smack down on the ship between a super soldier and a man who couldn't die.

"Rogers, calm down," Fury said. "It's late. You should all get some rest. We can continue this in the morning."

"What are you going to do about Howlett?" Rogers said.

"We're keeping him under until we can decide what we're going to do," Fury said. "I don't like it anymore than you do, but there aren't a lot of options. This is the best one for now."

Fury and Harkness exited the lab together; Banner stared at the screen in front of him, thinking.

"Cap, tread lightly on this one," Banner said. "Coulson, you're going to back me up on this, right?"

"Dr. Banner is right," Coulson said. "Capt. Rogers. . ."

"It's Steve," Rogers said.

Coulson sighed. "You might know the Howlett, but the man we brought in is not the same man," he said. "He attacked us. You should see the video. . ."

"I'll watch it in the morning," Roger said. "You're all right?"

"I'm fine," Coulson said. "Nothing a few hours of sleep won't fix."

"Just be careful out there," Rogers said. "I. . .none of us want to lose you again. Right, Banner?"

"Yeah," Banner said. "Get some sleep. I'll let you know if anything changes with Howlett, or if I find out anything new that'll help. I'll even pick Harkness' brain if I have to. I think I'll go do that right now."

Rogers clapped Coulson on the shoulder, heading for his quarters. It was going to be a very long day.


	7. Chapter 7

Age of Grace

Chapter 7- There was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people

Disclaimer: The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. belong to Marvel/Disney. Torchwood belongs to the BBC. I am merely borrowing them.

Fury waited until the others were gone, then went back to Banner's lab.

"I have a favor to ask," Fury said, watching as Banner looked up from the file he was reading. The doctor frowned.

"What kind of favor?" Banner said.

"The kind where you have to trust me," Fury said. Given his recent manipulation of the Avengers, Fury knew he stood little chance, but he had to try. "I changed my mind about Howlett. I want him conscious, but we're going to transfer him to the cage. We move him, pull the IVs, he wakes up. I want to talk to him, see what he remembers. Maybe I can get through to him."

"Good luck with that," Banner said. "I'll do it, though."

"Thanks," Fury said.

"Yeah, just don't make me regret this," Banner said, following him out.

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Logan woke with a start. He sat up, bare feet hitting a smooth, cold surface. He stood, popping his claws, eyes darting around, sniffing the air. Cold air, tinged with the scent and taste of metal. He could hear and feel the thrum of massive engines. He retracted his claws, walking up to the wall of his cell, or whatever it was. There was a familiar-looking man standing outside, watching him. He had dark skin and an eyepatch.

"Remember me?" he asked.

"Fury," Logan said. "How could I forget you?"

"I'm wondering how much you actually remember," Fury said. "I have it on good authority you don't remember a lot."

"I remember lots of things, but I'm not sure anymore what's real and what's not," Logan said.

"You're going by Logan now?" Fury asked.

"I like the name," Logan said. "What was with sending the jolly green giant and a lawn gnome after me? All you had to do was ask."

"Would you have come peacefully?"  
"You'll never know now," Logan said.

"It's been 15 years. I was beginning to wonder what happened to you," Fury said.

"You and me both," Logan said.

"I know what's been done—was it consensual?""

"I don't know," Logan said. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Well, help me out, and I'll see what I can do to help you track down whoever did this to you," Fury said.

Logan shook his head in exasperation. "Always a price with you, Fury," he said.

"At least you know what you're getting into," Fury said.

"Do I now?"

"Hear me out, that's all I ask," Fury said. "It'll get you out of that cage, cleaned up and something to eat. Do you still have that sense of honor?"

"Yes," Logan said.

"Then I'll just have to appeal to that to get what I want," Fury said. "Do we have a deal?"

"For now," Logan said.

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0730, they were waiting for Fury to show, and Rogers was tapping his fingers on the table in annoyance. The conference table on the SHIELD helicarrier brought back some unpleasant memories not far enough into the past for his sake. He remembered Coulson's blood-stained Captain American cards scattered across the table's surface. . .he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Coulson was sitting two chairs away, chatting with Sato and Jones. The two brought coffee and donuts for everyone, earning a grateful smile from Coulson. Rogers knew it was their way of trying to fit in, to adapt to their new circumstances.

Then there was Harkness. Rogers glared at him across the table. Harkness ignored him. At least Stark talked. He couldn't shut up, but it was better than silence. He didn't trust it, he didn't trust this man. Fury did, but what could that mean? Harkness knew Howlett, but again, did Howlett trust him? How messed up was Howlett? Banner didn't know, and Rogers wasn't going to ask in front of Harkness, and Banner was staring at his tablet screen anyway. And then his phone rang. Everyone at the table was looking at him as he tried to silence the loud rock song blaring from his pocket. Rogers didn't get a chance to say a word in greeting as the voice on the other end of the line started in.

"Where are you and where the hell is Phil?" Tony Stark asked.

"Working," Rogers said.

"Working, as in on assignment?" Stark said.

"Yes," Rogers said. "Kind of busy at the moment, waiting for a briefing to begin."

"I was hoping maybe you could explain why I come back to my tower, everybody is gone and replaced by a couple and their baby," Stark said. "Cute kid, but Pepper keeps cooing over it, I hope it's not giving her any ideas. . ."

"Coulson's fine, he's here with me," Rogers said.

"Fine? He was recovering from hole through his chest," Stark said.

"Stark, it's all right," Rogers said.

"Tell Fury he and I are going to have words the next time I see him," Stark said.

"Already took care of that," Rogers said.

"I hope he wasn't standing when you were finished," Stark said.

"He wasn't," Rogers said. "I have to go."

He ended the conversation as Fury approached, and his eyes widened when he saw Holwett behind Fury. The director of SHIELD sat down, Logan hanging back, assessing the situation. Two normal humans, three who weren't, Fury, and the man who turned into the hulking thing that he'd fought. Logan's instincts screamed "run," but he sat down. Two of the not-normal humans he thought he remembered from his past and the other was the lawn gnome. The two normals were safe. One male, and the other, the woman, reminded him also of someone from his past. Something good. That helped set him at ease.

"What's he doing here?" Harkness asked.

"I made a deal," Fury said. "Logan's agreed to hear me out."

Logan snorted; Fury ignored it, introducing everyone, watching Logan's reaction. He didn't say anything, just sat on the edge of his chair, gaze occasionally straying toward Sato. Fury wondered how he could use that to his advantage, filing it away for later.

"Do you remember Harkness and Rogers?" Fury said.

"Rogers—Germany, World War II," Logan said. "You were wearing that ridiculous costume. Or should I call you Cap?"

"Whatever works," Rogers said.

"How are you here?" Logan asked.

"Capsicle," Banner muttered.

"What's a Capsicle?" Logan said.

Rogers sighed. "I'll explain later."

Logan shrugged.

"Focus, people," Fury said. "Logan, Rogers and Banner were recruited as part of the Avengers Initiative I told you about. Coulson is their handler, Sato and Jones are support personnel. Harkness. . .well, we'll find something for him to do later. I'd like you to join up, so to speak. We could use all the help we can get, and like I said, help me, and I'll return the favor. Coulson and Rogers can explain more about the Avengers. If you have any questions, come find me. I'll leave you to it."

Fury stood, walking away, leaving the little group alone. Rogers caught Coulson's eye. Coulson gave him a slight smile.

"So, bub, why should I join Fury's band of merry men?" Logan asked, looking at Coulson. "Yeah, shorty, I'm talking to you."

"My name is Agent Coulson," he said.

"Just answer my damn question," Logan said, crossing his arms, wishing for a cigar. "You're not the only group that's come knocking on my door."

Coulson frowned. This was interesting news. "Obviously we have the resources to deal with someone with your skill set," he said. "And we can offer protection, if you need it."

"I don't need protecting," Logan said. "I just want answers."

"You'll get them if you assist us," Coulson said.

"How long?"

"I don't know," Coulson said.

Logan sighed. "Fine. I'll stick around for now."

He sat back in his chair, relaxing a little, eyes flicking over Sato once more. Maybe staying would be worthwhile after all.


	8. Chapter 8

Age of Grace

Chapter 8- That's my secret

Disclaimer: The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. belong to Marvel/Disney. Torchwood belongs to the BBC. I am merely borrowing them.

Dead silence hung over the table for several moments, everyone staring at one another. Then Harkness broke the silence.

"Capsicle—you need that explained," he said. "Rogers, want to do it?"

"I'd rather not," Rogers said.

"Capsicle is you?" Logan asked, interested. "I like it. Who came up with that?"

"Figures," Rogers muttered, appreciating the sympathetic look Banner shot him.

"Another Avenger you have yet to meet," Coulson said.

"So, Capsicle, how'd you earn that name?" Logan asked.

"More than 70 years on ice," Harkness said. "SHIELD found him last year, frozen in the plane he crashed back during the war."

Logan arched an eyebrow in interest. "Good to know you're harder to kill than I thought," he said.

"What about you? You look like you haven't aged a day," Rogers said. "Explain that."

"What I am, I don't think you're ready for," Logan said. "And you Harkness—still poking your nose in where it doesn't belong. I thought you would've learned your lesson by now."

Coulson started to say something, but Banner beat him to it. "OK, reunion is over. We have work to do," the doctor said, standing. "Logan, Harkness, you're coming with me. I have some tests I need to run. Coulson, you better stop by later, too. Kids, play nice."

"That went better than I could've hoped," Coulson said. "Considering."

"No kidding," Rogers said.

"Now that's out of the way, what do you expect of us?" Toshiko asked.

"You'll both be doing what you were before, only for SHIELD instead of Torchwood," Coulson said. "Or more specifically, the Avengers Initiative."

"Your job seems to involve herding cats," Ianto said.

"You have experience with that yourself," Coulson said. "And you can handle a gun. You both can. That'll come in handy."

"You don't expect these two to fight with us, do you?" Rogers asked.

"I expect them to do their jobs," Coulson said. "And you'll do yours."  
"But. . ."

"They don't have super powers?" Coulson said.

"Yeah," Rogers said.

"You should hear about some of the things we've dealt with," Toshiko said. "It would give you nightmares."

"Fury let me read some of the files," Rogers said. "No thank you."

"We know what we're getting into," Ianto said. "Besides, this is safer than staying in Cardiff."

"I think I've just found my new assistant," Coulson said. "Jones, how does that sound? Sato, you'll be in charge of handling all our technical needs. Harnkess. . .Fury was right, I'll have to find something for him to do."

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Rogers said.

Coulson shrugged, seeing Logan heading back their way.

"I miss anything?" Logan asked, taking a seat by Sato. She smiled at him, and he nodded at her.

"No," Rogers said.

"Uptight much?" Logan said, putting his feet up on the table. "You haven't changed."

Rogers' eyes narrowed. Coulson decided to head off a confrontation before it started. Herding cats, indeed.

"We'll be heading back to New York tomorrow, so it would be best to familiarize yourself with the helicarrier and each other while you have the chance because once we're back stateside, we are going to hit the ground running," Coulson said. "I have some things I need to take care of. I'll see you later. Captain Rogers, would you mind giving them a tour?"

Rogers sighed. "Sure," he said. No problem. He'd do it for Coulson, and to keep an eye on the two new members of the group. Jones wasn't going to be a problem, but the way Logan was eying Sato was downright predatory. Another thing to worry about, but he'd deal with it later.

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Banner watched Harkness roll his sleeve back down, putting his blood samples away for testing later.

"How do you control it?" Harkness asked.

"What?" Banner asked.

"The Hulk, or whatever you call him," Harkness said.

"It's hard to explain," Banner said. "And I don't want to talk about it. How did you end up not being able to die?"

"You wouldn't believe it," Harnkess said.

"I turn into a giant green rage monster," Banner said.

"True, but like you said, I don't want to discuss it," Harkness said. "So we're even."

"Answer me this then—what is Logan? Do you know?"

"He's a mutant," Harkness said.

"I've heard about them, but never actually thought that was true until now," Banner said.

"I don't know how many there are, but they do exist. Most are able to blend in if they're careful," Harkness said. "Some choose not to. I think it's going to be a problem. No, I know it's going to become a problem. I've heard things you would not believe. . ."

"Try me," Banner said.

"Not today," Harnkess said. "It's one of the things I need to discuss with Nick."

"Have fun," Banner said.


End file.
